So I had my final exams. I get my results in a couple of weeks. It’s a form of purgatory. You’re neither a student nor a graduate until you find out.
I had my phone interview with the lovely people at the government today, the department that handles the jobless (Centrelink). I’m now officially classed as unemployed. You can tell it’s a phone call with Centrelink when there is more music (while on hold) than there is actual conversation. You can tell you are at a trendy restaurant when there is more of the plate than there is of the food so I guess I must be amongst the avant-garde of the jobless.
The next call was with some job search agency. I could swear the receptionist sounded like a freaked out drag queen, from the way of her motormouth. It was like one little misunderstanding on her part would result in miles of unnecessary talk on the wrong subject before I could correct her. Then I figured out all the good job agencies must be staffed with female drag queens so I must be on a winner.
My interview at the job agency will be for 15 minutes. I wonder if it will be a trendy experience.